


Fell from his lips

by momotakaito



Category: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Coughing, Fluff, Hanahaki Disease, Happy Ending, M/M, Souda not soda, kuwata studied flower meanings, no beta we die like men, souda is childish and that's important, souda is impulsive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28416051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momotakaito/pseuds/momotakaito
Summary: Kuwata didn't fall in love. Everyone knew this little fact, he had gone out of his way to make sure everyone knew.But in reality? He fell hard.----bubblegum rock hanahaki fic, Leon doesn't know who his romantic feelings are towards luckily, Kazuichi is there to help him find out.
Relationships: Kuwata Leon/Soda Kazuichi
Kudos: 25





	Fell from his lips

**Author's Note:**

> my first attempt at a hanahaki fic!!! I tried to use actual flower meanings to show Leon's emotional process with the disease along with helping him realise who his feelings are for!

Kuwata didn't fall in love. Everyone knew this little fact, he had gone out of his way to make sure everyone knew. Kuwata craved and hunted the 'no strings attached' sort of agreement between two people, so it was just common knowledge that Kuwata Leon, the ultimate baseball star, didn't fall in love.

However, the small striped carnations that fell from between his lips seemed to say otherwise. 

He refused to acknowledge them. He refused to acknowledge what the small petals that flutter from his lips to the palm of his hand with every cough mean. Kuwata refused to acknowledge the fact he had fallen in love. 

Kuwata pulled at the hair that rest against his head, not yet gelled or styled, as he paced around the room. His chest felt tight and his mind swam with various accusations of this all being a prank, that someone had put a spell on him, poisoned him, or any other outlandish explanation for the dainty petals that kept clawing along his throat. Kuwata sat at the side of his bed, letting his head fall back against the mattress behind him, shutting his eyes and taking a small, shaky breath. Kuwata stares at the rings that adorn his fingers, slowly turning his hand around to watch the way the light above him shines against the metal, his throat itching and mouth dry. He closes his fist slowly before grabbing a tissue from his pocket and coughing violently into the white paper, not batting an eye when, as he pulled it away, a small flower sat neatly in the centre, covered by a few specs of blood for added dread. 

Kuwata sighs and stands up, slowly walking towards the trashcan in the far corner of his room, tossing the tissue inside without a second glance. 

It fell slowly until it rest atop a collage of various blood and flower stained napkins, tissues, hell even a receipt was thrown in there after a bad walk home from school. They all sat neatly in the bin, never to be looked at by the baseball star ever again if he can control it. 

Groaning, Kuwata stood up from his place on the bed and began to walk around once more, wringing his fingers together; a nervous habit he picked up from Naegi a few months back. Kuwata began to feel the familiar itch in his throat and dug his hands into his pocket in search of tissue or anything that he could let the flower rest in. He began to panic harder when his pockets came out empty.

Kuwata knew he couldn’t hide from the flowers forever, he would have to look at them eventually but, out of sight out of mind was the phrase Kuwata seemed to live by. As the itch got worse, Kuwata started to claw at his throat, begging for it to go away, for this disease to leave his body, for the pain to end. Kuwata grabbed his phone from the table beside his bed and dialled the first number he could think of.

After a few rings,

“Kuwata?” Came a confused voice. The voice that Kuwata didn’t want to hear anytime soon, the voice that Kuwata was sure is the cause of this suffering.

“S...Souda can you come” Kuwata coughed rather aggressively, cutting himself off before he could finish what he was going to say, however, he heard shuffling coming from the other side of the line and some panicked mumbling before the line went dead.

Kuwata groaned before the itch became unbearable and he coughed into his hands, feeling the cold and soft petals fall into his hand, the wet blood following shortly after. Kuwata stared at the flower in his hands, not wanting to acknowledge what it means, not wanting to accept the fact that he had fallen in love, but mainly, Kuwata didn’t want to accept the fact that this small flower was probably going to kill him. 

His mind focused entirely on the blossomed carnation in his hands so he didn’t hear the door to his room open quickly, nor did he hear the gasp that came from the same direction.

“Kuwata? What… Happened?” The person had asked cautiously. 

The redhead in question finally snapped his head up from the flower in his hands to the person standing in the doorway. Kuwata put on a fake smile and slowly stood back up again, walking towards the bin quicker than he could ever recall being able to walk. He couldn’t let Souda see them, he couldn’t let Souda see him at his weakest, and he couldn’t let Souda see that he had fallen in love. 

Opening the bin, Kuwata threw the flower inside however, this time he looked for a little bit too long and finally saw all of the petals, now covered in dry blood, that filled the container. A choked sob made its way from his throat at the sight of them all, the seriousness of his condition finally catching up to him. A pair of arms wrapped around his middle and Kuwata froze, the sudden warmth on his sides and back shocking him still.

"Is this why you haven't been hanging out with the rest of us recently?" Souda asked carefully, as to not scare the other away. Kuwata nodded slowly, wanting to lean into the warmth but he knew that would only make him feel worse and so, he pushed Souda away, turning around and crossing his arms over his chest. Closing himself off from Souda. The mechanic stared at the basebaler in shock before shaking his head and putting his hands on his hips. 

"You called me here Kuwata, don't start pulling away now just because I know your 'deep dark secret'," Souda stated, putting air quotes around the secret part of his speech. Kuwata felt his throat itch once more, however, this time it felt different, this time the flower felt bigger in his throat. His eyes went wide and he began to furiously dig around for a tissue once again, the warmth that Souda had previously applied to his back sticking to his mind. If he focused on it, and he would, he could still feel the contact between the two of them.

Souda stood there unsure of what to do, watching Kuwata dig around his pockets, his drawers, under the bed, practically everywhere in the small room for a tissue. When none was found, Kuwata let a single tear escape his eye and he tightened his fistd at his side's before he collapsed on the floor, resting forward on his hands and knees. Souda slowly sank to the ground in front of Kuwata, watching him carefully. 

Kuwata began to violently cough, his head swaying in the air as small purple petals fell from his lips, the itch never seeming to go away. Souda watched in horror as a long flower poured from Kuwatas lips, slowly laying on the ground underneath the others face. Tears freely fell from Kuwata's eyes as he stared at the new flower the lay Infront of him, his head aching and arms giving out from under him. Kuwata fell, his body falling onto its side out of exhaustion, seeming to forget the mechanics presence above him.

"Kuwata? What… What just happened?" Souda questioned anxiously, never having seen this happen before. Kuwata only let out a dry laugh, before gesturing for a drink of water. Souda nodded quickly before grabbing a glass and filling it almost to the brim with the cold liquid. Kuwata slowly sat up, rubbing his temples with his index and middle finger slowly, hoping to ease some of the tension in his head. Souda came over and gently placed a hand on the redhead's shoulder, taking note of the small flinch that he got in response. Kuwata smiled, grateful for the drink, before downing it all, not caring about the small drops that fell onto his chest in the process. Souda just sat in front of him, letting the silence envelope the pair. 

"It's called the hanahaki disease," Kuwata finally replied, pulling Souda out of his own mind. The mechanic tilted his head to the side slightly before picking up the small hyacinth from the ground.

"Is it contagious?" Souda asked before a small laugh invaded his ears at the question. 

"No, no, don't worry. It's my fault I have it anyway," Kuwata stated, looking down at the ground. Souda opened his mouth as if to say something but no words came out, leaving him opening and closing his mouth like a fish in water. 

Kuwata placed the glass down beside him before gently taking the flower from Souda.

"This is a new one, hand me over that book on the table," He ordered, looking at the hyacinth in his fingers, spinning it between his index finger and thumb slowly. Souda grabs the book, confused, handing it to Kuwata slowly, as to not drop it. The star thanked him quietly and began to flip through the pages. "See, the flower I used to have, the striped carnation." Kuwata turned the book around and pointed to an image of a white flower with pink around the edge of each petal, "It means refusal. I refused to acknowledge the fact that I was plagued with this, I wouldn't even look at the damned things." Kuwata laughed slightly, Souda just watching him in awe. "Now, however, it's this one." He points to a long purple hydrangea, perfectly matching the one in the redhead's hands. "It means I'm sorry," Kuwata finishes, closing the book slowly. His mind swims with endless possibilities as to what that could mean. Is the diseas sorry for him? Is he sorry for anything?

Souda places a hand on Kuwata's shoulder, making him look up into the pink eyes above him. 

"Do you know who caused this?" Souda asked gently, not wanting to dig into the baseballer's personal life too much. 

Kuwata laughed slightly and placed his hand softly over Souda's, a warm and playful smile on his lips.

"Now that, dear Souda, is a good question," He answered.

Souda stared at him in shock, his mouth agape and his eyes wide.

"You mean you don't know!?" The mechanic exclaimed, standing up suddenly causing Kuwata's hand to fall limp by his side. He nods slowly before coughing into his hand, small purple petals fluttering into his palm. 

Souda grabbed Kuwata's hand and pulled him up suddenly, causing the punk to stumble slightly in surprise. Once he was balanced, Souda swung the door open and began to run down the hall, draggin Kuwata behind him as he did. 

"Where are we going!" Kuwata yelled, hoping to get the pinkette's attention. When his question was left unanswered, Kuwata began to move his legs manually, catching up to the eccentric mechanic. 

From and outsider looking in, they would never guess that Souda was the upperclassman in this situation, the shorter boy acting more on impulse more than logic most of the time, his childlike behaviour surrounding mysteries and any form of 'fun' problem solving making him appear younger than he is. Kuwata supposes that what originally drew him to Souda, his carefree attitude and his very specific aura that he had about him. Souda can be seen usually with a splash of oil or grease on his cheek from late nights in the workshop, his yellow jumpsuit wrapped around his waist more often than not. His pink hair, not surprisingly unnatural, was styled in uneven layers, sticking up however it wanted to most of the time, however, it is usually covered with a simple black beanie with his signature braid showing at the front, framing his face slightly. Kuwata knew that Souda was conventionally attractive, there was no dodging that topic, he could see why girls (hell, even some guys) watched him from afar. 

Souda suddenly stopped, causing Kuwata to slam into his back and snap out of his thoughts.

"To answer your question, we are going to find the person who caused this!" He replied with joy on his face, letting go of Kuwata's hand and placing them on his hips in a proud manner. Kuwata laughed slightly before another coughing fit occured, bending over and clutching his stomache tightly. Souda panicked for a moment before rubbing his back slightly watching as a single purple petal fell before a single buttercup fell from his lips. 

The pair froze. The small yellow flower that lay on the ground making them slowly turn to eachother and smile gently.

"Well, I know that that one means," Kuwata laughed out, bending down (flinching slightly at the pain in his chest) and picking the delicate flower from the carpet. "Childishness," Kuwata finished, looking at the yellow colour in his palm. Suddenly, Kuwata snapped his head towards Souda, raising his hands on the air gleefully.

"What's got inta you suddenly?" Souda muttered, unsure of what caused his friends dramatic change in mood.

"Souda, It's a clue! The person has to be childish!" Kuwata exclaimed, only to be shushed by someone passing by. He blushed slightly and apologized. Souda smiled at Kuwata.

"Ok, so who do we know is childish?" Souda pondered aloud, tapping his index finger against his chin dramatically. Kuwat thought the question over, only two names coming to his mind.

"Asahina and...You," Kuwata spoke slowly, his mind catching up with his voice. Souda looked Kuwata up and down slowly, seeming to take in the information.

"Kuwata-"

"Call me Leon," Kuwata interrupted, his face flushing slightly at the realisation of how close they had become since his outburst.

"-Leon, is it me?" Souda spoke carefully, trying not to make Leon run away and hide out in his room again. Leon took his lower lip between his teeth, wringing his fingers together.

"Yeah… I think it is," Leon muttered, slowly lifting his head to make eye contact once again. Souda smiled slightly, a flush rising to his cheeks.

"There is only one way to find out."

Before Leon could even think about asking what he meant, Souda leant forward and connected their lips. Leon froze for a second, excepting the itch to appear in his throat and make him end the connection however, when it never came, he melted into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Souda's neck. Souda pulled back after a few minutes, resting his forehead against the punks. 

"It was you, I'm sure of it," Leon confirmed, smiling slightly at the mechanic before suddenly pulling away and coughing. Souda looked at him wide wide eyes before he realised.

There were no flowers. 

Kuwata stood straight again, spinning on his heels to fac Souda once more.

"Sou- Kazuichi, I had my suspicions from the start." 

Kazuichi smiled, his name fell from Leon's lips easily, falling from his lips just like the petals had moments prior. However this was different, Kazuichi made his lungs hurt for a different reason. Kazuichi didn't infect his lungs with floral poison, no.

_Kazuichi simply took his breath away._

**Author's Note:**

> stripped carnation = refusal  
> purple hyacinth = I'm sorry  
> buttercup = childishness


End file.
